


Like Rain

by oneshycrow



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, One Shot, takes place during trouble on the homefront
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22859374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshycrow/pseuds/oneshycrow
Summary: Olivia cried. She cried and cried and cried. She cried for the loss of her father’s life, for the loss of her own. She mourned the death of her mother, and the death of her home.F!LW and Butch have a heart-to-heart about her time in the Capital Wastes and the death of her father.
Relationships: Butch DeLoria/Female Lone Wanderer, Butch DeLoria/Lone Wanderer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Like Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Since these are written out of order I'll give a little backstory; my F!LW was a bit of an outcast and I always imagined her and Butch would connect in their later years sometime after the G.O.A.T. and sometime before the events of Escape!
> 
> Implied past romance, but it was a bit more subtle and like a friendship/deep connection that anything else. They never worked through what they were to each other and left things pretty open-ended as she left.

It had been about two days since Olivia arrived, the vault door screeching awake again for the second time in his life as she strode through and demanded to speak to Amata. He had only seen a glimpse of her since that night. When she wasn’t locked in her old room, she was deep in conversation with Amata, her face creased with concern as she held her old friend and listened to their recent woes. _The fucking Overseer._

He swore he heard her crying at night when everyone else had gone to bed, but that wasn’t like her at all. Though she had changed so much since the last time he saw her, he thought grimly. She was almost unrecognizable from the timid girl they all grew up with. 

Despite his best attempts to catch her in a spare moment, he couldn’t seem to get any alone time in with her. What had happened between them in the few short years before she left they’d purposefully kept to themselves, so he couldn’t exactly confront her in public about any of it. He wasn’t even sure if she wanted to remember what they’d left unsaid the last time they spoke. Although, she did have his jacket slung over her shoulders when she'd returned. She’d replaced her vault suit for a t-shirt and jeans, but she’d obviously continued wearing his jacket as it was covered in sloppy stitches and a patchwork of fabrics where he could tell she attempted to mend it. Something about that tugged at his heart.

Freddie was no help, tailing him every waking fucking hour. It was even worse since they all slept in the common areas of the vault now – there was hardly any privacy. They were lucky enough to still have one bathroom on their level that had access to water. If it weren’t for Stanley being on their side and doing his best to keep the purifier going, Butch was sure the Overseer would’ve cut them off from any necessities by now.

\---

His patience finally paid off when he caught Olivia awake one night, towel in hand, heading to the showers. He pushed off the wall where he was keeping guard and stuck the toothpick he’d been chewing on between his teeth as he jogged a bit to catch up to her.

“Hey, nosebleed!” He called, his yell more of a loud whisper than anything. Everyone besides Susie was asleep as far as he knew, and she was camped out on the other end of the corridors keeping watch on her side. He couldn’t believe his luck when Freddie had left him alone at his post to go to sleep early – something that seldom happened as the younger boy was trying to make a good impression to the gang – not that it mattered, since they were the only two members. Even so, he couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate a good suck-up, but this was more important!

He caught up to her as she stopped walking and turned. With a weak smile, she greeted him.

“Hey, Butch.” She said, looking up at him now as he stepped closer. When their eyes met his nerves were shot and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat and fiddling with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. She waited a moment for him to talk and when he didn’t, she turned and continued walking.

Butch stopped himself from reaching out to grab her, choosing instead to walk with her as she turned into the restrooms. 

“Can I help you?” She asked with only a hint of annoyance, setting her towel, a fresh bar of soap, and a clean toothbrush on the row of ceramic counters. She glanced up at him, their eyes meeting through the long mirror hanging above the sinks. Butch swallowed thickly, the buzz of the fluorescent lighting bouncing around inside his head.

“Can’t a guy make conversation with his best girl?” He said, mentally hitting himself as he flashed her a sheepish grin. He wasn’t good with this shit.

“Sure? But does it have to be at midnight? Or in the bathroom?” She said, obviously skipping over the ‘best girl’ part to Butch’s disappointment. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, she never did. 

She grabbed the soap and washcloth from her pile of things and stepped over to the showers, pulling the curtain back on one stall and setting everything nicely inside. Butch’s heart raced. He didn’t know how long she was going to stay in the vault, or how long they all even had before the overseer kicked them all out. Any other time they were both busy with other things. What would he do if she dismissed him now and left before he ever got the chance to say what he wanted to say?

“It’s important.” He said, his voice betraying how much it meant to him. She gave him a concerned glance, unzipping the top of her new vault suit to expose her undershirt and letting the sleeves hang limply at her waist. He caught himself before he got too touchy-feely. “What, you can’t scrub and talk at the same time?”

“Yeah, guess I can.” She sighed before turning to face the shower again. She turned the water on, sticking her hand under the water to test its temperature – a habit she’d never broken despite not seeing warm water in a year or so. Satisfied with the heat, she shook her hand dry and turned back to him expectantly. 

“Um, can you at least go sit on the counter so I can actually get in?” She said, gesturing to where her towel was. “You can hand me that when I’m done.” Butch nodded and put a hand to shield his eyes as he walked around the other side of the wall to the counters. He hopped up onto one, gripping the edge and shuffling side to side as he tried to get a comfortable perch. 

Olivia let out a huff and quickly stripped out of her clothes, tiptoeing on the cold tile floor as she stepped out of her flip-flops, pulled back the curtains, and stepped inside. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her as she felt the hot water pour onto her back. This was her first shower since she’d arrived, and though she’d had a few sponge baths in the wastes, it had been far too long since she’d been so clean. 

Butch kicked his feet back and forth, leaning his head back against the mirror as he pulled his lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?” 

She shrugged before remembering he couldn’t see her. “Go ahead.” She called out from the shower, closing her eyes and turning to face the showerhead. She began her old routine, running her fingers through her hair to scrub out the filth from her scalp before reaching for the bar of shampoo. It was almost comical how brown the water turned as it ran into the drain under her feet. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Satisfied, Butch stuck a cigarette in his mouth and flipped his lighter open, taking a puff and stuffing the lighter back in his pocket before tossing the toothpick he’d been chewing on in the trash.

“You gonna talk or not?” Olivia asked, poking her head out and around the corner of the wall at him. He screwed his face up at her teasing expression, but inside he was happy they could still be this lighthearted with each other.

“Damn, alright. I just thought I’d enjoy your company first. It’s been a while, ya know.” Butch said, swinging his legs up onto the counter longways to stretch. He crossed his boots, turning and resting his back against the wall. 

“I know,” Olivia said quietly, sticking her head back under the water as she continued to wash.

Butch flicked his ashes into the sink next to him, glancing in the mirror to check his hair as he thought about what to say next. 

“Are you glad to be back?” Is what he settled with first, not wanting to bring up the painful questions too early. Although, when he thought about it, every question he had for her would probably hurt in one way or another.

“Yes and no,” Olivia answered. “You know better than anyone I wanted to leave for years, but,” she trailed off, rinsing her hair out. “I had kinda hoped I wouldn’t have to go alone.”  
Butch’s breath caught in his chest, and he cleared his throat and took another hit of his cigarette to mask it. “Do you like it out there?” he said after a pause.

Olivia thought for a moment, chewing on her lip. “Well, no.” She said honestly, furrowing her brow in thought.

“No? But, like, ain’t it freeing or some shit? No rules? No walls?” Butch snorted. They’d spent so much of their adolescence fantasizing about what the outside world was like, and she had the gall to come back and say she didn’t like it?

“I mean, yeah it’s kinda nice not having the Overseer breathing down my neck or my-” She cut herself off, the realization that her father had died only a week earlier hitting her once again like a punch to the stomach. It’s not that she’d forgotten, how could she? But she’d been trying to keep herself too busy to notice the deep emptiness residing in her heart. 

Butch noticed her painful pause, his heart dropping. He’d had a bad feeling that may have been the case. 

“Your pa.” he offered quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuck. Her dad. Either she couldn’t find him or she’d lost him. He didn’t know which was worse.

“Yeah.” She said, and he could hear the slight break in her voice. He wanted nothing more than to hold her then, but he wasn’t sure if that would make things better or worse anymore.

Olivia wiped her stinging tears away, scrubbing at her body with a renewed fervor. She sucked in as much air as she could muster before letting it out again, trying her best to stop crying. 

“So, you wanna come back?” Butch said quickly, trying to change the subject. “Wanna live here again?”

“I don’t think that’s up to me.” She said.

“What?” Butch asked, unable to help his voice from rising. “Who the hell is it up to then? The Overseer? Liv, we’re gonna kick his fuckin’ ass until he steps down. Nothing’s up to him anymore.” He couldn’t help his anger. Fuck the Overseer. Fuck the vault. Fuck anyone who messed with him and his girl. He wouldn’t lose her again.

“Amata said a lot of people don’t want me here. Even if she becomes Overseer, she can’t really force them to want me to stay. I mean, it kind of was my fault for everything that happened. Jonas, Paulie...” She trailed off. 

Butch slammed his fist down onto the counter, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain ran up his arm. “Fuck that! Who the hell cares, huh? Paul wouldn’t want you going back out there alone. Jonas wouldn’t blame you at all! Your dad-” He stopped short with a frustrated ‘ugh!’ snubbing his cigarette out in the sink and hopping down to pace back and forth. He had to keep his cool. The vault was on edge these days, and the last thing he wanted was someone to come investigate shouting and interrupt their only chance to talk.

Olivia didn’t answer but turned the shower off and began to wring the water from her hair. Butch stopped pacing, uncomfortable by the sudden silence. The droning of the water hitting the tiles had been a nice sound, wrapping him in a kind of comfort that he hadn’t realized was there. Now he felt exposed. 

“Can I have my towel?” Olivia asked, her hand popping out from behind the curtains. Butch grabbed it from behind him and walked over, placing it gently in her outstretched palm. It disappeared in a flash behind the curtain and Butch was left tracing her shadow through the curtain with his eyes as she dried off. He didn’t realize he was staring until she pulled the curtain back and stepped out, her flip-flops squeaking against the tiles. She looked up at him, her hair flattened against her head and her nose and eyes red. She’d been crying, a lot by the looks of things. 

“I just don’t belong here anymore, Butch.” She said, a look of utter defeat in her eyes. “I never really did.” 

Butch gave her a confused look, about to pipe up about how he would stick up for her from here on out, how he was sorry for being mean to her all those years, for bullying her, for turning the whole class against her when they were children, and how that didn’t mean she didn’t belong. This was her home for Christ’s sake! But she cut him off.

“I wasn’t born here. My dad wasn’t born here, my mom didn’t even _know_ about this place. Everyone lied to us.” She clutched the towel closer to her chest, wrapping her other arm around herself. She didn’t think she’d tell this to anyone, but here she was. Butch had a way of getting her to talk. She had no idea how he did it.

“There’s no way. You were here this whole time! I mean, I know the vault’s been open before we were all born, we found that out, but c’mon. You're saying the Overseer just let your dad in with a baby? How did your dad even get you here, then? Do you even know if your dad was telling the truth?” Butch didn’t realize he was rambling until Olivia’s eyes began to well up with tears again. She quickly covered them, her face reddening in shame. She hadn’t let anyone see her vulnerable in at least a year. It was a hard habit to break. 

“I don’t want to talk about my dad anymore.” She managed to say before becoming a spluttering, sobbing mess. Her shoulders shook with the weight of it all and she covered her face with one hand, the other clutching for a hold against the skin of her collarbones.

“Oh, fuck, Liv.” Butch breathed out, trying not to cry himself. He reached out to her and pulled her into a tight hug, not caring if she got water on his clothes. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He muttered, stroking her hair. He grabbed the edges of his jacket and wrapped it around her as far as he could, cradling the back of her head with one hand as he let her cry into his neck. At the contact, Olivia let out a strangled sob and began to cry even harder, her hand leaving her face to hold onto Butch’s jacket as if for her life. 

Olivia cried. She cried and cried and cried. She cried for the loss of her father’s life, for the loss of her own. She mourned the death of her mother, the death of her home, the death of all the friends and acquaintances she’d left behind in the past year. She cried about all the people she’d had to kill, all the people she couldn’t save, all the horrors she had to face alone. Most of all, she cried about the fact that she would have to do it all again, forever, until her life finally ended. She cried because nowhere was perfect and nowhere was good. She cried because she didn’t think she’d ever be able to be happy. She cried because they were living in a ruined world devoid of love, and despite her dad’s hope in their future she just couldn’t bring herself to believe in it.

Butch didn’t know what to do besides hold her, so that’s what he did. He held her until the sobs wracking her body turned to soft trembles and until her tears dried on his skin, and until she became completely silent and still in his arms. Only then did he pull her head back, wiping his thumbs under her swollen eyes and offering her the edge of his t-shirt for her nose. She let out a shaky laugh at that, wiping snot on his shirt.

As he held her face in his hands, he began to realize just how rough she looked. She was gaunt and pale, but there were the blossoms of faded sunburns and bruises on her face. Under her eyes were dark circles, her lips were chapped and split from dehydration. He didn’t even want to think about how skinny she’d become under the towel.

The thought of Amata forcing her back out there against her own will filled him with sorrow. Sure, they had wanted to leave as kids. Hell, he still wanted to leave now, but Olivia hadn’t had the privilege of choice. 

After a while Olivia pulled herself away from Butch, fixing her towel where it had begun to unravel, and taking a step back. 

“I’m sorry.” She said, wiping the remainder of tears from her eyes and patting down her flyaway hairs. She wiped her nose on her towel and turned away from Butch to gather the remainder of her things from the counter and scoop her discarded clothes off the floor. Butch stopped her as she went to leave the bathroom.

“Where have you been sleeping?” He said, his hand lightly holding hers. She looked at him again in confusion. 

“In my old room. I figured that would be okay, it’s closer to you guys than to security so-” Butch cut her off with a shake of his head. 

“Stay with me tonight.” He murmured, pleading her with his voice. He didn’t even care at this point if people saw them talking. So much had changed, what was the point in keeping it a secret anymore? They were adults now, neither of their parents was around to scold them. But it couldn’t be healthy for her mental state to stay in her old apartment, surrounded by her father’s old things, completely alone.

Olivia bit her lip, silent for a while in thought, until finally, she nodded. Butch couldn’t help the smile of relief that spread over his face and he let her hand go.

“Get dressed then, I’ll show you the sweet pad I have now – I call it the Shitty Floor-Mattress Suite. It’s even got room service.” He said, his stupid grin growing at the smile he pulled from her.

“Well, one thing hasn’t changed. Your jokes still suck.”


End file.
